


through hate.

by crowkiiing



Series: koizumi & kuzuryuu [3]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: F/M, this is one of my crappiest ones but its 12 AM leave me alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-24
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-12-06 12:45:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11600937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crowkiiing/pseuds/crowkiiing
Summary: he deserves it, he knows.





	through hate.

They look like bruises, he notices. Bruises that circle and loop under his eyes and splatter across his cheekbones, but they're shadows: cold shadows that press deep into the creaks of his face.

They all woke up like that, but the Kuzuryuu notices that he looks guant, notices there's no curve to his cheeks anymore. Instead, his entire face looks hollow and pressed to the limit with stress and destruction. The others look guant too, but it stands stark in a face which was round and curved in previous memories.

Peko hasn't spoken since she woke up, and he can see her in the glint of the broken mirror, red ribbon held in the crack of her lips as she ties another one at the end of a simple braid. Her hands shake when she does it; the braid looks messy and not at all like the one he's used to seeing.

He spares a look at her, then departs the half-broken cottage. The debris that trickles and crumbles along the wall of what used to be his cottage serves to remind him of the different world, the different reality, what was the Neo World Simulation.

The hospital is more familiar to him then the island, now, Fuyuhiko's been there three, times, four times, thousands of times. Hajime and Kazuichi stand with their arms crossed. The latter is facing where the beach would be if broken glass didn't glint every few steps and large, gaping holes in the sand weren't there. Hajime's just as quiet, but he stands in the shadows of the hospital door rather then sit on the cracked tile in front, like Kazuichi is.

All the islands are almost blown apart, in comparison to what it was in the simulation, but the bridges are still the same.

Hajime greets him with a nod, and Kazuichi pops a bottle of alcohol with a thumb and offers it to him, only to be denied (he tries every time, every damn time). Sonia, Akane, and the imposter are no where to be seen (then again, seeing the imposter would chill him).

Without a word, he slides in and stands next to Hajime. The other, he notes, is getting easier and easier to see with every month that passes- now, his neck doesn't hurt as much when he cranes his neck to see him, and Fuyuhiko can see Peko on the same eyelevel now.

"Any luck?"

The other shakes his head.

"I'll take the shift."

Hajime blinks once, then swallows, nods, and moves away from the door to allow Fuyuhiko in.

The place is a little more worn-down in comparison to the simulation. Blood smears stand out against the wall, and the way the light hits it makes it glow an uneasy brown. Some of the plaster is hanging off of the wall, and as he passes, Fuyuhiko takes the curling thing in his hand and snaps it off. As it breaks in his hand, he tosses it to the floor.

They still had some of the comatose students hooked up to the machines that kept them breathing and body functioning, but the ones that had recently woken up are moved to the hospital.

Fuyuhiko vaguely remembers when he woke up, out of place and darkness everywhere, the world spinning, his legs jelly and the floor suddenly much closer then usual, and the way he had slashed out at the nearest body, teeth bared and eye sharp.

At the moment, there's only one person in the hospital. Shes been unresponsive to them for about two days now, ever since she woke up, really- instead staring out at a window for something that she will probably never find. She's always humming too, an enchanting song that does nothing but give Fuyuhiko creeps now.

It's the second time he's entered her room. The first time she didn't even look at him, fingers knotted deep into the thin sheets that fall across her body, and Fuyuhiko had looked at her reflection in the window of the hospital.

 _It's dirty,_  he notes with a glance at the brown stain at the corner. _Have'ta clean it._

Hiyoko is picking at her fingernails this time, and she doesn't look up when he enters. The Kuzuryuu finds the little torn white stool that's usually shoved underneath the table that sits in the right corner close to the door, pulls it out, and sits, folding his hands together.

After a moment, he scoots the chair (there's a noise when the wheels on the bottom of each leg move across the floor) so that he's nearer.

She starts humming again, but this time it's different. According to the rest of them, she's been humming while looking through the window, eyes unfocused and glassy, but now she twists her fingers into the sheets, eyes aimed downwards.

Fuyuhiko carefully lets the word slide from his lips. "... Saionji."

Her knees jerk.

It's the first reaction they've really had in two (or three days), and Fuyuhiko winces at the pain she must feel (if she could). Her legs are scarred, he had caught glimpse of them. They were blood-smeared, too, at one point, but Sonia had washed her, and now there's just scars and knotted skin. Her entire knee is a mess of peeling skin and skin that never healed properly.

He tries again.

"Saionji."

It leaves a sour taste in his mouth, one that twists and turns his stomach. Fuyuhiko grimaces and presses his lips together in a solid, tight line and there's a flash of red hair in his mind and the cry of 'Koizumi-onee!' before he squashes it.

She flinches, then raises her eyes. Blinks once, twice, as if seeing him, him as in Fuyuhiko, Kuzuryuu Fuyuhiko. The glaze that had been cast over her eyes is gone.

They stare at each other for a moment. Hiyoko moves, and lunges.

He's tackling to the ground, gasping, and  _he can't think he can't think he can't think._

"Shit!" Something knocks hard into Fuyuhiko's jaw and metallic washes over his tongue, starting from his right side.

Off on his left side, there's the sound of metal clattering to the floor and there's just a flurry of limbs, fingers trying to seize at his throat and Fuyuhiko just squirms backwards, hand flying around.

It hits cold wall. He gropes around again before he finds the door, and yanks.

"SOUDA!"

Hiyoko growls and there's another punch and Fuyuhiko twists, and twists hard, the rings that gleam bright on his hand finding a rightful spot against her face.

_Get to your feet. Get to your feet, dammit!_

"Fucker!"

Fuyuhiko stumbles again. He manages to push himself up and touch the right side of his mouth with his tongue, tasting blood again, but Hiyoko is already throwing herself at him, screeching.

As a yakuza, he has always payed in blood. Blood of his enemies, his family, but Fuyuhiko doesn't have the urge to pay in blood. There's no anger, no frustration, just his instincts that twitch inside of him but Fuyuhiko doesn't act upon them.

_(hit me)_

"You-!" Hiyoko spits. "You, you, you, you!  _Youyouyouyouyou_!"

It's her tone. It's her tone, the way she speaks: Fuyuhiko knows automatically what she's speaking out.

As a yakuza, he has always payed in blood. Blood of his enemies, his family, himself, and his own classmate.

_(RED LIKE HER HAIR, RED LIKE THE LIQUID ON YOUR SHOES, RED LIKE HER RIBBONS, HER EYES, RED LIKE THE BLOOD ON THE BAT)_

The first strike comes faster. A sharp pain in his cheek and Fuyuhiko hisses. There's blood on the crack of his lips now, the chapped and broken cells, leaking through the crevices. Hiyoko doesn't stop striking and everything hurts but Fuyuhiko takes it.

_(YOU DESERVE IT, DAMMIT)_

He takes it. Hiyoko screams and cries and shakes him, fingers digging deep into his white collared shirt, she slams him hard against a wall and he doesn't say anything but stare off into the distance.

"Say something!" She finally screams.

Fuyuhiko pulls his gaze from the window, and stares at her directly in the eyes.

"You killed Mahiru-onee-chan," the former dancer breathes and he can see it in her eyes: it's hatred that boils cold and freezing in your blood, something that had died too many days and months ago.

"... yeah. I know. Hit me. I fuckin' deserve it," he finally says.

Hiyoko falters.

_(HIT ME UNTIL MY BLOOD STAINS THE FLOOR LIKE HERS DID)_

"I killed Sato, I killed Koizumi," Fuyuhiko says. "I killed them both. Whatever you're going to do to me... I deserve it. I'm a fucking mess. I'm a fucking mistake, I've made fuckin' mistakes."

Hiyoko stares at him. His cheek is starting to bruise, blood smeared across his lips and cheek and jaw, and Fuyuhiko's usual sharp golden eyes are cast downward.

"So do whatever the hell you want. I'm sorry, 'kay?"

Hiyoko bites back on words, and there's the scattering of feet and Fuyuhiko feels himself being pried from her, the cries and screeches of Hiyoko as Hajime pulls her and yanks, and Kazuichi's hands are across his back, careful and reassuring.

"You 'kay, dude?" The words are blurry to his ears.

Fuyuhiko nods numbly. 


End file.
